


With Fire and Blood

by AMac0218



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-23
Updated: 2015-06-23
Packaged: 2018-04-05 17:48:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4189200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AMac0218/pseuds/AMac0218
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a thing with Jon Snow after the finale/the end of Dance with Dragons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	With Fire and Blood

**Author's Note:**

> Nothing serious, I just had this in my head. Hope you enjoy if you read it!

Cold.

 

What was, surprisingly the first thing that Jon Snow felt when he hit the ground. It wasn’t the pain. It wasn’t the blood from the wounds. It was the cold snow that was slowly melting under his back.

 

His eyes fluttered closed as he tried to keep himself from passing out. He needed to hang on. There was no telling what the others would do to the WIldlings after everything he’d done to try and keep them safe.

 

“Ghost,” he called out to the Direwolf, wondering how far away he was. “Ghost, to me,” he murmured, kowing his voice was raspy and weak.

 

‘...The Great King Crow…’

 

He furrowed his brows at the sound of a voice. A teasing tone to it.

 

He tilted his head a little. It was her voice. “Ygritte?” he asked quietly. “How?”

 

She was above him then, her head tilted the opposite way of his, her red brows pushed together as she smiled, freckles dotting her face. Suddenly Jon didn’t feel the cold anymore.

 

“You know nothing, Jon Snow,” she laughed quietly, the sound sending his heart and whatever was left of him soaring. She reached out her arm and grabbed hold of his forearm, helping him to his feet, and he realized that none of him hurt.

 

He looked down at his clothes, black, black robes, black fur on his shoulders, but there were no holes. He touched a hand to where the first blade had gone through and pulled it away. No blood. “Ygritte...I-,”

 

She leaned in close and kissed him, quieting his words before they left his mouth. Jon sighed against her cheek through his nose, his lips instantly parting before she pulled back and smiled at him, shaking her head. “Aye...ya did…” she murmured, knowing what he was going to say. “So did I,” she shrugged at that. “I told you once that we would. It’s a part o’ life, didn’t your fancy Lord father teach you that?”

 

“He taught me a lot of things..”

 

“Lotta good that did you, hm?”

 

“Ygritte…” His eyes went to her chest. The last time he’d seen her Olly had put an arrow through her back. He frowned when he thought of the young boy who’d killed him as well. “I’m-,”

 

“Shut up,” she said to him as she looked into his eyes. In reality she was just grateful that Jon had been there when she died. She’d spent so much of her time being angry at him leaving, but in reality seeing him in those last few moments of life had brought her more peace than she thought possible. She wished that she could have been there for him.

 

“I brought you back...over the wall…” he said quietly. “I wrapped you in my cloak from Winterfell..” He let the rest of what he’d done fall silent. She didn’t need to know about him burning her so the White Walkers couldn’t bring her back. He wouldn’t tell her that he’d stayed until there was nothing left, just to make sure she was truly gone. Gods only knew what he’d do if he’d seen her frozen, brought back by some ancient dark magic.

 

“Gave me your cloak did, ya?” she smiled, bringing him right back to the present. Or whenever they were now. “I’d be glad for it, but I don’t think I want to be Lady of the King Crow.”

 

He scowled again before he felt her hand take his chin in her palm, fingers wrapped around it. FIngers that had been able to kill and skin a deer as well as make him delirious with pleasure.

 

“You scowl more now than you did then when you were alive, Jon Snow….I think I should try and get you to smile more here..” she murmured, her lips now so close to his he could feel every word causing his own lips to turn up. “There we are.” The next instant she was swallowing the breath from his lungs as she kissed him, her fingers fisting in his hair.

 

They landed in a pile of furs, and the last thing Jon remembered was Ygritte’s mouth moving over the trail of hair below his navel.

 

When he opened his eyes again he was surrounded by stone halls. Halls he recognized.

 

The halls of Winterfell.

 

He sat up fast, looking beside him, expecting to see a head of hair kissed by fire, but instead he was alone. “Ygritte?” he asked quietly. His eyes moved to his chest, curious to see if there were any scars. yet there was nothing but the ones he’d grown used to. The white line over his hip from when he and Robb had started learning how to fight with real swords. Holes where Ygritte’s arrows had hit home and come through the other side.

 

He threw back the furs on the bed and got out, furrowing his brows before he pulled on clothes by his bed before he headed out of his bedroom. A thousand memories hit him when he did. Memories so clear he could practically see them in front of his eyes. He and Robb and Theon running through the halls, paying knights with wooden swords. He and Arya sitting by a window, just the two of them. He followed the winding halls down to the Great Hall. A Direwolf banner hung up on the wall, and beside it, a ripped banner, black, half of a dragon’s red body emblazened on it, missing two of its three heads.

 

He frowned as he looked at the table and saw his father sitting at its head. To his right, lady Catlyn, both of them watching him. The two people on Ned’s left, a beautiful woman with hair as dark as his father’s. As dark as his. The woman watched him eyes that were identical to his as well, a blue rose settled between her ear and her temple.

 

Lyanna. The name came to him quickly and the familiarity it brought with it had been something he’d never felt before. It enveloped him in a warm protective cocoon.

 

Next to her was a man. A man with silver hair and lilac colored eyes, a small smile pulling at his lips, though his eyes were only for the woman beside him. He was dressed in chainmail, a black enameld chest plate with the full three headed dragon of the Targaryens centered right in the middle.

 

Jon tilted his head to the side in confusion. “Father...,”

 

Ned sat still as stone, unseeing, but the other man turned to him and gave him a smile that had him feeling the same warmth the woman’s eyes had given him. “One cannot do all of this alone,” the man spoke to him. “There must be three heads, yet there is but one. Find her….then reclaim what is yours with fire and blood.”

 

He blinked and was gone again, laying with Ygritte who had her chin propped up on his chest, smiling at him with a knowing look in her eyes, as if she’d seen the whole thing. She laughed quietly through her nose before she leaned down and nuzzled him gently. “You know nothing, Jon Snow,” she said before she dropped a kiss right over where Olly had run him through with the sword.

 

Like a lightning bolt he was struck fast with pain, blinding pain that lasted only a moment before he sat up fast and grunted, his hand going to his chest automatically. He felt a wet nose nudge his cheek and he reached up, his hand cupping Ghost’s large head. “Good boy,” he murmured.

 

“He is indeed,” he heard a voice to his right. He turned to it, gasping at the pain, but he didn’t lay down. “Welcome back to the world of the living.” The red witch. He clenched his teeth and was about to ask why she was here, but she answered him before he could get the question out, which was just as well. “Stannis is dead...Winterfell still belongs to the Boltons, so I came to retieve you….You have no oath keeping you to the Wall now, and the Lord of Light has brought you back….It is time to take what is yours with fire.”

  
He blinked a few times before he turned and looked at Ghost who was watching him with silent red eyes. “Yes...it is,” was all the ex Lord Commander said. With fire and blood.


End file.
